


light of the love that i found

by purgay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Terrible Life AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgay/pseuds/purgay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is it because you’re living vicariously through me? A corporate robot drone living through the experiences of a burnt-out junkie. It’d make for a good story, huh?”</p><p>It’d make for a terribly tragic story. They are two different people from two different sides of the spectrum and Castiel could never love him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light of the love that i found

“You deny yourself burgers, pie and alcohol,” Cas flicks the lighter and it sparks a flame, igniting the bowl in his hand. He gives it a good, long hit and exhales a cloud of pungent smoke directly in Dean’s direction. His red-rimmed, glassy eyes crinkle in the corner as he laughs. “Live a little, Mr. Smith,” he says with over dramatic seriousness, holding the small, glass pipe out as some sort of peace offering.

Dean gives a childish huff and loosens his tie in a small attempt to seem more relaxed. He also just desperately needs something to do with his hands because the memories that stir when Cas calls him ‘Mr. Smith’  _do_  things to him. Wonderful things, yes, but he’s tired and Cas is high as a kite- though, generally, he always is.

“I live,” Dean states flatly, frowning and moving on to uncuff his sleeves, rolling them up.

“Yes,” Cas says almost thoughtfully and takes another hit, blowing out another dense cloud, this time away from Dean. “You do. You live in an awesome penthouse in the city. So, why are you here with me again?” He gestures around the cramped space of the bedroom- littered with pillows, candles, posters and little souvenirs he has picked up during his travels with his brother. It’s not what Dean is used to but he  _likes_  it. 

 Dean opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He can’t possibly answer that question honestly, though he wants to. God, does he want to.

Cas tilts his head and squints his eyes, like he’s trying to figure Dean out. It makes his skin crawl and he feels oddly exposed and vulnerable.

“Is it because you’re living vicariously through me? A corporate robot drone living through the experiences of a burnt-out junkie. It’d make for a good story, huh?”

It’d make for a terribly tragic story. They are two different people from two different sides of the spectrum and Castiel could never love him.

“I’m alive,” Dean practically croaks. He isn’t really sure why exactly he says it but Castiel laughs and Dean feels himself sink into the pillowed floor because it wasn’t meant to be funny. Cas must sense that he’s chuckling at Dean’s expense because his features soften and the look on his face is somewhere between adoration and pity.

Cas leans forward and places a hand on Dean’s chest. It’s warm, solid and grounding. Dean wonders briefly if Cas can feel his heart beating through his perfectly pressed button-up because the rhythmic thump, thump, thump is ringing through his own ears.

“A beating heart doesn’t mean you’re alive,” Cas whispers into the space between them before planting a somewhat chaste kiss against his lips, pulling back just barely and smiling against him.

Cas’ hand snakes from it’s resting place on Dean’s chest and winds it’s way up the side of his neck and through the perfectly styled strands of hair, ruining the polished effect Dean was trying to accomplish.

That was just what Cas did though. He picked Dean apart and put him back together and made him rethink everything. Cas was his own personal brand of drug and he wanted him. He needed him.

He  _loved_  him.

“I love you,” Dean blurts out and immediately wishes he could pull the words back to his mouth and swallow them and never, never let them escape again. He was  _never_  supposed to fall in love with Castiel.

Cas’ hand stops carding through Dean’s hair (which is now standing on all ends thanks to persistent fingers) and comes to rest on the back of his neck. He pulls back and Dean is afraid to look him in the eyes.

He’s fucked this up.

Maybe Cas would be too high to remember.

Dean forces eye contact and Cas looks just as shell-shocked as Dean feels. His eyes are opened wide, pupils blown, with pink lips forming a perfect ‘ _o_ ’.

This is the part where Cas gives him a firm but easy brush off. This is where they have the  _it’s not you, it’s me_  talk or hell, maybe even  _it’s not me, it’s you_.

Dean is pretty sure that if it were possible to die from embarrassment that’d he’d leave his body and ascend right up through the ceiling that very moment (or descend straight through the floor, depending on who you asked).

Then Cas is kissing him and it’s nothing like the peck on the lips before. What it lacks in finesse it makes up for in passion and the way he nips lightly at Dean’s bottom lip before deepening the kiss has Dean gripping Cas’ hips tight and letting out a whimper he should probably be ashamed of.

Cas pulls back again and Dean chases his mouth with his own but Cas just touches their foreheads together and smiles, wide, toothy and brilliant.

“I know,” Cas says and Dean feels something bubble up in his chest that feels a lot like happiness. Leave it to Cas to freakin’ Han Solo him. Cas kisses him on the nose, his cheek, his brow and finally his lips before whispering a quiet, “I love you too.”


End file.
